


Stages

by Skeptikitten



Category: Bleach
Genre: Character Study, Denial, Introspection, M/M, Psychology, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-08 07:17:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1931658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeptikitten/pseuds/Skeptikitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A five-shot of shorts on Ichigo's emotional progression in regards to his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Denial

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this story and its chapters comes from the controversial Kubler-Ross model of the “five stages of grief and loss”, a model in psychology that tries to explain the emotional progression of a person when faced with either impending death of himself or a loved one or a major life upheaval. Not all psychologists believe this to be a true model, but I felt it suited the emotional turbulence that comes with a person realizing his or her sexuality is not what he or she assumed it would be, or when falling in love with a best friend or other “unsuitable” person.

_As reality becomes hard to face, one of the first stages following upheaval is denial._

 

Kurosaki Ichigo was not into men.

He wasn't homophobic, or anything; he could admit when men were attractive in sort of an academic sense. He understood why the girls in his class went crazy for Chad's muscles or Uryu's refined features and inherent grace. He understood that Yumichika's rambles about his beauty were pretty well founded, and that Byakuya was a flat-out stunner. But he was straight, damn it. That was the default, right? He thought Rukia was cute, like a little doll with her tiny frame and huge dark blue eyes. Orihime was beautiful, with her shiny hair, sunny smile, and voluptuous figure. Even Tatsuki had a certain spunky allure. The problem was that their attractiveness was all academic to Ichigo too. 

Maybe there was something wrong with him- maybe the fact that he'd been dragged out of a relatively normal teenage existence into life-and-death battles for his soul had broken him somehow. The few chances he had to _breathe_ between Hollows he reflected on the detached way he viewed his relationships with women; it sparked one of the only serious conversations he'd had with his father, who had suggested his mother's death made him afraid to care about any woman again. Of course, Isshin had followed that up with a wail to Masaki's huge memorial poster that their 'darling son is such a late bloomer', causing Ichigo to kick him in the head and the talk to devolve very quickly into brawling.  
Ichigo had always believed that he'd find a special girl to feel _that way_ about, but he was starting to think he wasn't capable of it. Inoue Orihime was sweet and brave, utterly devoted to him. Kuchiki Rukia was strong and self-reliant, and had given him the power to protect all he held dear. If he couldn't muster up a romantic interest in women like that, maybe he couldn't in anyone.

Then Rukia was taken from him, and everything changed. When he met Abarai Renji, he was far more concerned about retrieving Rukia and keeping all his guts on the inside than noticing the obnoxious show-off in his way was a looker. In fact Ichigo recalled being irritated at how gods damned _cool_ the older man looked, with his crazy red hair, wicked tattoos, and unfairly awesome sunglasses. _Ichigo_ was resident bad ass of Karakura, thank you very much, and no trash talking pineapple head was taking his slot. That irritation had turned to reluctant respect at Renji's resolve and strength in the Seireitei and an even more grudging friendship after, though neither of them was willing to admit it. He began to understand the women in the Gotei 13 when they went nuts for Renji's crimson hair and mahogany eyes, the exotic ink covering tight, dense musculature, and his sexy, devil-may-care smirk. And _that_ wasn't so academic, so Ichigo found himself with a problem: Renji and his evil, evil sexiness turning Ichigo's world inside out. 

From then on, Ichigo couldn't have ignored Renji if he tried. Like Rukia, he just seemed to always be around. When he wasn't freeloading at Urahara Shoten he was hanging around Ichigo's house in his ridiculous dated clothing, picking on Ichigo's schoolwork, eating his snacks, and generally being a pest. Renji ignored Ichigo's complaints, bickered with him like a housewife...and was all-around wonderful, when it came down to it. Ichigo had always kept his friends at arms' length, but Renji allowed no such distance and was startlingly intuitive about Ichigo's moods, knowing exactly when to pick a fight when he was stressed, when to distract him with a crude joke when he was depressed, and when to just hang out quietly when Ichigo needed to think. Renji became a fixture in Ichigo's life, one he was grateful for even though he'd rather have his eyes gouged out than say it. 

The only problem was Renji's inherent physicality. Growing up a street rat in the Rukongai, Renji had all the modesty and manners of an alley cat. His jokes were crude, his speech overtly sexualized, and his attitude on casual nudity nonchalant. The lieutenant thought nothing of stripping off in front of Ichigo if it was humid or he wanted a shower, which caused Ichigo to blush hotly- which in turn caused Renji to tease him mercilessly. It was worse when they sparred together in Urahara's training room. Renji tended to train shirtless and the sessions were always followed with a soak in the springs; Ichigo never managed to get used to seeing the shinigami with all those cut muscles on display, glistening tan skin contrasting with night-dark tattoos. Sometimes he got lost tracing them with his eyes, the sharp, wild lines running up both arms and across Renji's chest, spiraling from his back and shoulders downward towards his rear and curling around his ribs to end near his navel. Even as blockheaded as he was Renji noticed Ichigo's interest, but put it down to fascination with his inked skin. 

“Ya aren't the first to ask about 'em Ichi, and ya won't be the last,” Renji said patiently after one particularly brutal bout. They were in the healing springs, Renji's hair down for once and spilling across his shoulders like a river of blood, his arms propped on the edge so his chest and stomach were wide open to Ichigo's gaze. Ichigo's hand fluttered towards those dark whorls in an aborted movement, and the elder laughed. He grasped Ichigo's hand and followed the marks on his chest with their joined fingers. “S'ok, Ichigo. You can touch 'em. I don't mind.”  
Cheeks hot with embarrassment, Ichigo traced the sharp lines across Renji's collarbone, then raised a tentative hand to his forehead. Renji smiled, softer than his usual sharp grin. “I know I got more ink than most, and the ones on my face are unusual, yeah? Those were actually the first ones I got.”  
“Ouch.”  
“No shit,” Renji laughed. “It was Zabimaru's idea, ya know? He's a possessive bastard, but also a proud one. Zanpakuto are reflections of the wielder's soul, so o' course he's an ass like that. He wanted ta have somethin' tangible to mark our connection. Every time we made a big step forward, he showed me more marks in my dreams. The first time I learned his name, it was my eyebrows. When we got the shikai release, it was the ones on my upper arms. Every time I get stronger, he shows me more, and I draw 'em out and take 'em to our guy.”  
“How do tattoos even work on souls anyway?” Ichigo pondered, now running his treacherous fingertips across Renji's ribs. To his surprise, the bigger man doubled up giggling.  
“Oi! Jackass, that tickles,” Renji said, wheezing and batting at Ichigo's arms. “But if you tell anyone...”  
“Yeah, yeah,”  
“Anyway, since everythin' in the seireitei is made of reishi, so is the ink, and the needles are forged with kido. So it works just like it does here, I guess- permanent marks.” Renji leaned onto the ledge of the spring, laying his head back and closing his eyes.  
“You didn't have the ones on your stomach when we fought the first time, did you?”  
One wine-dark eye cracked open and he was favored with a smirk. “Nah. Got those after bankai, right before I came to this world- hurt like a bitch, too. I intend ta keep gettin' stronger, so I don't know where Zabimaru is gonna put 'em all soon. Gonna run outta skin.” That smirk grew wicked in an instant. “Careful, Ichi. I'll start thinkin' ya want a piece of this, if ya keep starin' like that.”

Ichigo laughed of course, shoving Renji under the water and calling him a lech. But for a fleeting moment Ichigo's chest had constricted so tight he couldn't breathe. _Is that what this is? Do I...want him? No way._

For the next week or so, Ichigo picked more fights with Renji than usual to keep the disturbing thoughts away. He reasoned it must be irritation that made his face flush and his pulse rise whenever the redhead was around, or that he was getting sick or something. Then the arrancar came, and between worry over Aizen and his vizard training Ichigo barely had time to remember his own name much less obsess over his bizarre reaction to his friend. He was almost relieved when Rukia and Renji were ordered back to the Seireitei rather than help him rescue Orihime- he couldn't afford to be distracted and this...whatever it was about Renji was distracting. It wasn't until they followed him to Hueco Mundo that the cracks in Ichigo's wall of denial started to appear. Renji was furious that Ichigo had not trusted them to return to his side and fight with him- it was the first time that Ichigo realized that they were more than friends, they were _nakama._ And when he went after Ulquiorra after the Garganta slammed shut, when he saw Renji grinning like a madman with the false sun of Las Noches glinting off Zabimaru's blade and caught in his crimson hair as he slew enemies by the dozen, he first admitted to himself that he wanted a “piece of that” so badly he could taste it.

On the heels of his crumbling denial, his anger began to arise.


	2. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Once into the second stage, the person recognizes the denial cannot continue. The resultant anger can manifest itself in several ways- anger at himself or others or a higher power- and often includes rage and envy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second stage on diverges from canon, since it only addresses what has happened so FAR in canon. I am making my best guess on where this series will end based on clues Kubo has given us, but keep in mind I am writing this just after the chapter 592 release so I don't actually know what happens with the Wandenreich final battle or anything about Ichigo's new bankai with his double-wield Zangetsu.

The anger lasted a very long time.

All he could think as he flew down the corridors of Las Noches, following Ulquiorra's spiritual pressure, was how monumentally stupid he was. Here he was, heading towards a fight that could very easily end up in his death, with Orihime's life (and perhaps all of their lives, if they were stuck in Hueco Mundo as Aizen implied) on the line, and he had allowed himself to be distracted by something as trivial as how his friend _looked_. It was pathetic. _Ichigo_ was pathetic. Fortunately, his Hollow felt the same rage, fueling his new hollowfication and thus saving his life. 

The Aizen affair and his subsequent training in the Dangai left him with little time to reflect on his situation but the residual fury remained. Tensa Zangetsu was vicious about this lack of concentration and resolve, and once fused with his Hollow took great delight in making pointed jabs about his preoccupation with handsome redheads. As a result, he hadn't _really_ believed the Old Man when he said Ichigo would lose his powers if he used his ultimate attack. He'd always managed to skate around such things before; he'd gotten his abilities to return after Byakuya severed his Soul Chain, so why should this be different? 

He was such a fool. The screaming pain searing his body following Aizen's defeat was nothing compared to the scalding contempt he directed at his own mind. _Stupid little idiot, thinking the rules don't apply to you- you're going to lose it all now. Your powers, your friends, Rukia...him. You're going to lose him because you're too arrogant to think you could be defeated!_ Then blackness. Nothing. The void.

When Ichigo finally awoke, it was in his own bed surrounded by the forlorn faces of his human friends. The gathering around him felt more like a funeral than a wakening while Rukia explained what had happened. As she began to fade from his sight, as the comforting feeling of the spiritual pressures around Karakura dissolved from his awareness, Ichigo felt the cold tendrils of apathy creep across his heart. A frozen numbness had encompassed his soul, for the first time in ages burying his anger deep. It took months for that block of ice in his chest to thaw, and when it did it seemed the storm returned worse than ever. He was supposed to be a _normal_ human now, right? With a _normal_ life and a _normal_ school and a _normal_ future. Problem was, Ichigo had never been normal in his life, and had no idea how to handle it in the least. 

He tried for a while, he really did. Tried to go to school, hang out with Keigo and Mitsuiro, spar with Tatsuki. He found himself starting to avoid Uryu, Orihime, and Chad- they were just reminders of the spark that no longer burned within him. And when Uryu or Chad left class unexpectedly amidst a flurry of horrid excuses with Orihime hot on their heels, he would clench his desk so hard it had started to warp and crack under his fingertips. His grades declined rapidly over the next interminable months as he heard nothing from the Seireitei- from Rukia and Renji. Was he so easy to discard now that he was no longer useful to them, that his so-called friends could not even visit him in a gigai? Couldn't even write a _letter_? The complete silence made him furious. Further, when his dreams weren't haunted by soul-rattling nightmares about the blood and dust of Hueco Mundo or remembrance of the incandescent pain of a cero to the heart, they were filled with sweat-slicked golden skin covered in tribal ink and hair like the heart of a ruby. He awoke from _those_ dreams with an ache in his groin and tears in his eyes that he would deny come morning's light. Ichigo half-convinced himself that his attraction to Renji was just lust and appreciation for a kindred spirit, one of the first people he'd ever found that could understand him in full. It still pissed him off- why couldn't he just be ordinary? Stare at Orihime's monumental breasts like Keigo, or blush under some girl's attentions like Uryu? Did this thing he had for Renji (a thing which unfairly continued despite hearing nothing from the redhead himself for an entire year) mean he was gay, or was it just the shinigami himself?

He overcompensated; got in more fist fights, tried dating. The latter was an unqualified disaster. Most girls thought Ichigo was a delinquent, and the few that were willing to go out with him were obviously looking for a thrill with a “bad boy”; something that, despite his brawling, did not suit his nature. Thirteen months after he lost his powers, he gave up and tried going out with guys instead. While this was certainly more comfortable than dating girls, he still couldn't muster up even a flicker of attraction for any of them. One weekend, completely out of his mind with temper and frustration, Ichigo even used a fake ID to get into a gay club. 

Wearing his best attempt at “jail bait”- low riding black skinny jeans, a white muscle shirt so tight his nipples showed, studded leather bracelets, and smudged gray eyeliner- Ichigo had flirted his way past the bouncer, downed four shots of whiskey at the bar, and made a game attempt at dancing. Several would-be partners were rejected before he felt a tall, muscled body press against his back, laying hands on his gyrating hips from behind. He spun, fist pulled back on instinct, before his eyes looked up into the face of his molestor and gasped. _Red._ The man now chuckling with raised hands (in the universal “don't shoot” gesture) had shoulder-length red hair tied in a low ponytail and warm hazel eyes that in the strobes from the dance floor could pass for darker. A detailed tattoo of a tiger wound its way around his right upper arm to end on his chest, a scrolled cross on his left inner forearm. _A redhead, and a halfer judging by the features._  
“Just wanted a dance, beautiful. But if you'd rather be alone...”  
 _Gods, even the man's voice is almost right- rough and low._ “Just picky about my partners, is all,” Ichigo replied, taking a step back into the man's space and trying for what he hoped was a sexy smile.  
Three songs later Ichigo found himself being led into the brick alley next to the club and kissed within an inch of his life. The redhead (whose name he hadn't even learned, geez, what was wrong with him?) had one hand on Ichigo's backside, pulling his leg up around his hip, and the other cupping his jawline. One large thumb was pressed to his chin, opening his mouth further for the man's tongue to map out every inch of his palate and teeth and gums. Ichigo began to feel light headed, dragging his arms up around his partner's neck to pull out the hair tie and tangle in auburn locks. He could feel the hard bulge of an erection in the cradle of the hips pushing him to the wall, but no matter how he tried to relax into feeling Ichigo's body wouldn't respond. It was all wrong- the hair under his fingers too coarse, the scent of the skin heavy cologne not sweat and grass, the face too kind and open without fierce black tattoos. He disentangled himself with difficulty, hands on the man's chest.  
“I...I'm sorry, I just...I can't...”  
“You're younger than you look, aren't you, beautiful?” his partner asked gently. He sighed, drawing back from Ichigo and putting his hair back up with a spare tie from his jeans pocket. Ichigo flushed.  
“I'm not a kid.”  
“I didn't say you were. But you're either too young to be at a club like this, or too new to the gay scene to be comfortable with your sexuality yet.” He smiled, so understanding, and Ichigo was more furious than ever that he couldn't seem to let go of the impossible. “My name's Richard Toyama. Rick.”  
“I...Ichigo Kurosaki.”  
Surprisingly, Rick made no comment on Ichigo's name. Another point in the man's favor, damn it. “Here's my card, Ichigo- give me a call when you are comfortable. Or turn twenty, if you're underage.”  
Rick turned and left the alley, striking up a cigarette on the way and giving Ichigo a half-wave over his shoulder. 

Ichigo ran all the way to Urahara shoten, a frenetic energy running through his body and tears streaking his cheeks. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!” The man himself answered the door, catching one look at Ichigo and drawing him into the inner courtyard. He took caught or dodged every blow Ichigo tried to rain down on him, letting the younger man work out his violent rage without comment for over an hour. Finally, Ichigo kicked the wall with a primal scream, then felt a sting on the back of his neck a mere moment after. 

He woke up again in his own bed, clean and changed into his pajamas. His father was asleep in his desk chair, pulled up next to the bed, one hand on Ichigo's shoulder while he slept. Ichigo sat up and tried to slip out to the shower, but Isshin caught his wrist easily. _Too easily, fuck it, I've got nothing any more._  
“Ichigo. I know you're hurting. I know you think your friends have abandoned you, but-” Isshin began.  
“They have abandoned me!” Ichigo snapped, cutting him off. “Not a single fucking word in fifteen months, dad.”  
“But you're wrong,” Isshin continued as though Ichigo had never spoken, pressing his fingers hard into Ichigo's pulse point. “And this sort of behavior will not solve anything. If you need to work out your anger, come to me.” He smiled softly, the sort of smile he usually reserved for Yuzu. “Daddy is always here.”

Ichigo kept himself under tighter control after that, though he could still feel that ire bubbling just under the surface. Then, seventeen months after he lost his powers, fate seemed to hit the “fast forward” button on his life again. His dreams became filled with familiar shadows and voices urging him not to give up- though the details slipped maddeningly through his fingers with the morning's light. Memories of Rukia and Renji, so long repressed, began to haunt him again. It seemed that everything in his world reminded him of them: the vending machine on the corner that fascinated Renji so much that he constantly begged Ichigo for change, the juice boxes left in the cabinet that Rukia loved, the arcade he and Renji had raided in a silly competition to see who could win Rukia the most stuffed animals. By the time Koga approached him about joining Xcution, Ichigo was desperate for a change- any change- that would keep those ghosts at bay. Finding his Fullbring gave him the rush and purpose of the fight again, but the plot the other substitute wove was far beyond Ichigo's own “point-me-at-the-bad-guy-sword-first” style. Just when he thought he'd be checking out for real (would that be so bad- wouldn't he see them again?), a sword through the chest tilted his world on its axis for the second time in his short life. Reiatsu flooded throughout his body, blistering his veins with power as his senses flared back to life all at once. Ichigo could pick out familiar pulses in that flow- the chill of Hitsugaya, the sharpness of Byakuya, even a fiery burn that must be old man Yama- but the one that enveloped his heart and mind was pure Renji, a blast of resolve and challenge and loyalty. All those beloved, _missed_ faces were before him but all he could see was Rukia and Renji and their overwhelming joy, and even through his own soaring happiness there was still anger and confusion and hurt. No time to swell on it for Ichigo, though- as usual. 

Disposing of Koga was a picnic compared to the Wandenreich. Eighteen months had matured Ichigo enough that he was able to cage the anger in his heart to focus on the task at hand, and seeing Rukia and Renji inches from death solidified that resolve. He would be honest with them at the first opportunity, before he lost them and _nothing_ could ever be said again. His chance came sooner than anticipated, Renji's sheer strength of will dragging him out of the healing springs and into Ōetsu's crazy palace right alongside Ichigo. It was as though no time had passed and nothing had changed- their good-natured bickering and ridiculous competitiveness was immediate and reassuring. Even their twin heartbreak at seeing their zanpakuto snapped did not phase Ichigo for long. He and Renji had never been the sort to back down from a challenge, and cracking some asauchi heads sounded like a great way to vent to Ichigo. A few hours of near-silent fist fighting, however, had Ichigo feeling twitchy.

“Hey, Ren,” Ichigo began, kicking the nearest spirit in the face while throwing an elbow at the one behind. “I need to ask you something that's been bothering me.”  
Renji swept his left foot low under one of his opponents, jumping up to deliver a right cross to the next. “If you try ta say I shouldn't be doin' this because I was a little fucked up before, I'm going to kick you in the nads.”  
“Like to see you try it, fucker,” Ichigo said, sticking out his tongue. “But that's not what I meant.” He laid out two more asauchi with one of his father's favorite drop heel kicks. “I want to know why you and Rukia never tried to see me or talk to me all that time I had no powers.”  
A meaty sounding smack was the only response, as Renji took a hit to the stomach in his surprise. Ichigo wasn't sure he'd ever seen the man look so pole-axed.  
“Are ya fuckin' kiddin' me, Ichigo?” Renji coughed, holding his ribs and favoring him with the most scathing look in his repertoire. “We're in this stupid pit, fightin' for the chance to get our zanpakuto back, and ya wanna play jilted girlfriend?”  
“You son of a-”  
“Damn, sometimes I forget how young ya are.” Renji spun unexpectedly, clotheslining three asauchi and head butting a fourth. Ichigo had never really seen the elder man fight hand-to-hand before, and it was pretty impressive. He could see why the redhead was not considered a hakuda expert- his moves were pure street fighting, born of a place where you had to learn to fight fast and dirty or you got dead pretty quick. It was also really hot. _No, bad Ichigo. Focus._  
“Wouldn't have been fair to ya.”  
Renji's reply was the exact opposite of what Ichigo had been expecting. “What?”  
A snort was his only answer as Renji waded through the press to place himself back to back with Ichigo, allowing them both a little breathing room with one less front to protect. The soft strands of Renji's ponytail brushed against Ichigo's neck, making him shudder. It had grown so long since _before_ , and the look of it was driving him a bit crazy.  
“All we woulda been was a reminder of what ya lost. Everything we coulda talked about- everyone we would have stories about- woulda just rubbed salt in the wound, yeah? Even if we weren't ordered ta leave ya alone- and we were- Rukia and me never coulda kept it from ya that Urahara and Kurotsuchi were lookin' for a way to get yer powers back. We didn't want ta get yer hopes up if nothin' came from it. Woulda been damn cruel.”  
The asauchi were circling them warily now, a few testing the limits of their reach only to be beaten back with increasingly brutal punches and kicks. Renji turned his head just enough for Ichigo to catch his profile and signature fanged grin. “Plus, time don't mean the same ta us, Ichi. In a few decades at most, you'd be right back with us.” The shinigami barked a laugh as he gleefully kneecapped one spirit and kicked another between the legs. “Huh. Guess that don't work so hot on blank souls, eh? Anyway, I'll bet if he couldn't figure out how to get yer powers back, Urahara'd have just shoved you in front of a car or somethin'. He seems like a sore loser.”  
Ichigo grinned back at his friend, but his mind was still in turmoil. They were protecting him, like he was a little kid. Sure, he wasn't a couple hundred years old but that didn't make him a child- not after all he'd seen and accomplished. Renji must have sensed that Ichigo was still upset, as the next three days passed in relative silence. Ichigo's distraction cost him- only Renji passed Ōetsu's test, and his so-called friend didn't even argue with the decision to chuck him back to the human world. 

His father, of course, seemed to have telepathy and picked up on Ichigo's agitation. The enormity of his origins and his parents' past sat heavy in his heart, adding to the press of what he felt was a growing distance between himself and Rukia and Renji. Feeling bizarrely open due to his father's uncharacteristic seriousness, Ichigo told him...everything. Isshin listened without comment or interruption, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

“Of course he said nothing, Ichigo,” Isshin sighed as Ichigo's narrative ended. “That Abarai kid isn't an idiot. He figured it out too- you were missing something vital to make a true zanpakuto. And that's my fault, not yours. My decision to keep this from you until I thought you were ready.”  
“That's what you're going to comment on? Not that your son...likes guys?”  
Isshin laughed, waving his hand dismissively. “Shinigami see the soul, Ichigo, not the wrapping. Most shinigami don't have preferences like humans do.” The older man gave what Ichigo felt was a very creepy leer. “You think I never had male lovers before I met your mother?”  
“Eeew. Too much information, Goatface.” Ichigo faked vomiting, before stopping short. “Wait- if you were the Captain of the 10th, that means Matsumoto and Hitsugaya knew who you were and didn't say anything! And probably Rukia and Renji too. Fuck! Does that mean they all knew who I was and-”  
Ichigo stopped short as he was cracked on the head. “Ow, damnit!”  
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Your friends all knew, but they were protecting you. I'm an exile. If they had acknowledged you were my son, old man Yama would have treated you quite differently. Abarai in particular- that kid was supposed to be reporting on you, you little moron. Kid's honest as they come, but he lied in those reports to keep you safe. Can't get much better of a friend than that.”  
“A lie of omission is still a lie, Pop. Not sure I can get past that yet.”  
Isshin shrugged. “Only you can decide that, son. Who knows? That anger might be useful if you can channel it in the right direction- towards Yhwach, for example.”  
“Yeah, I guess I- oi!”  
Ichigo's exclamation was lost on the older shinigami, who apparently had enough of being a normal person for the day and had flung himself in front of his mother's portrait in a flurry of tears.  
“Oh, Masaki! Our little boy is all grown up and caught in the sweet agony of first love!”  
“You jackass.”

 

Isshin was right of course- not that Ichigo would be caught dead admitting it. He had more important targets for his rage than his best friends, and dealing with the revelation that his Hollow was his _real_ zanpakuto was enough to occupy his mind. Adjusting to fight with a double-wield zanpakuto was more challenging than he had thought it would be when he made his impetuous choice to accept the Old Man as part of his soul too, and Uryu's seeming betrayal far outstripped what he did realize was rather stupid teenage angst. The spectacular fallout of the final battles with the Wandenreich had unexpected consequences as well. Kyouraku tried to be as gentle about it as possible, but Ichigo's power had grown so that just being in the world of the living could be disastrous. He destabilized it with his presence alone, and his reiatsu drew Hollows and worse like a magnet. As a result, Ichigo was given a Gentei Reiin and sent home to await the decision of the Central 46 on his fate. Days turned into weeks as they deliberated, with no apparent end in sight. Rukia and Renji slipped out to see him as often as they could spare around their duties rebuilding the Seireitei, but all Rukia could tell him was that her brother frequently returned home from the talks so agitated that he was willing to spar with _Zaraki_. The anticipation was bad enough, but then something happened that added jealousy into the mix, making his situation well nigh intolerable.

“Captain? They actually made _you_ a captain?” Ichigo laughed. Renji had burst in through his window ( _why the hell couldn't shinigami figure out doors?_ ), scattering his study materials all over the floor. The redhead's child-like excitement made Ichigo want to tease him. “I know there's quite a few empty slots, but what was Kyouraku-sotaicho thinking?”  
“Oi! I passed the test with flying colors, you bastard!” Renji said, grinning and punching Ichigo in the shoulder. “I'm the _only_ lieutenant that could- I've got mastery of bankai and zanjustsu and I'm a shunpo expert, just like you yer highness.” He sprawled all over Ichigo's bed, hair splaying over his pillows. _Damn it, now my bed will smell like Renji. Like I don't have to try not to jerk off after I see him as it is._ “After our time in the Soul King's realm, I'm stronger than a lot of the sitting captains anyway.”  
“Better not let Rukia hear you say that.”  
“She knows she ain't got the strength to be a captain. With Sasakibe gone, she's the only one that has bankai- but hers is way too dangerous and leaves her too vulnerable to be use in any battle but a one on one. She also doesn't have the leadership experience. She's only been a lieutenant for a couple years, and wasn't even seated before that.”  
Without meaning to, Ichigo felt a juvenile sort of cattiness coming on. “What about your precious _Shuuhei-senpai_? From the way you talk about him, you'd think the sun rose and set on him. Not good enough for captain, is he?”  
Renji's dark brows knit together, obviously confused. _Of course he is_ , Ichigo cursed himself, _that sounded like a jealous schoolgirl. So what if he talks about fucking Hisagi in all his stories? Like I care._  
“Shuuhei? Ichi, he doesn't have bankai- hates his shikai even. He'd never pass,” Renji sighed, picking up the stuffed animal that used to house Kon from his pillow and pretending to pummel it. “Only two other ways to make captain besides the test. One is to get six sitting captains ta recommend ya and three more ta approve- and with four empty seats including the one I'm fillin', that would mean unanimous approval. Ain't no one ever goin' to get unanimous approval from so many different personalities. The other o' course is to kill the sitting captain, but no one except those crazy fucks in 11 kill for the rank.”  
Ichigo shoved Renji over and flopped onto the pillows himself, feeling ridiculous but unable to stop the unreasonable words from leaving his mouth. “Can't manage the whole set, eh? Guess he's not quite as awesome as you make him out to be. Pretty convenient that he'll be _your_ lieutenant now though, huh?”  
“What the hell is that supposed ta mean?” Renji shouted, grabbing Ichigo's shirtfront and dragging him upright again to stare into dark, furious eyes. “Dunno what yer problem is, Ichi, but ya sound like a jealous bitch. We're supposed ta be nakama. Thought ya'd be happy for me, ya ass!”  
And with a pop of displaced air, Renji was gone.  
“Damn it,” Ichigo snapped. He snagged his badge from his desk drawer, popped out of his body, and followed. It was harder than he had thought. _He's getting seriously fast._ Luckily for Ichigo, there was only one place around Karakura with a senkaimon that was open for non-official transit- at Urahara shoten. Ichigo took a shortcut and managed to catch Renji just as he was about to enter the shop, instead pulling him by the wrist up to the roof.  
“Sit, would ya?” he rasped, catching his breath. The older man just raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Ren, sit down.” Renji acquiesced, but the tense lines of his back and shoulders made it obvious he was pissed.  
“I didn't mean...I don't think that you...damn it,” Ichigo stuttered. He was shit at apologizing, especially to Renji. He let his head fall onto Renji's shoulder with a dull thud. “I am happy for you, Ren,” he whispered. “I know you're capable. I don't know what the fuck my problem is.”  
“It sounds like you're jealous that people ya know you're stronger than outrank your ass, is what it sounds like,” Renji grumbled, but put a companionable arm around Ichigo's shoulder anyway. “And I know this wait is killin' ya. I probably shoulda kept this to myself until we knew what they decide for ya, but I didn't want ya to find out from someone else.” Ichigo thanked the gods for Renji's obtuse nature- he thought it was about rank and his nerves, and Ichigo wasn't about to disabuse him of the notion. “And what the hell's yer problem with Shuuhei anyway? Ya barely know him. He's a good fighter, an' a good man.”  
“Just rubs me the wrong way, I guess. Who the fuck tattoos '69' on his face anyway, the perv?”  
Renji frowned again, fingertips biting into Ichigo's bicep. “It's for Muguruma. He had the same tattoo, and saved Shuuhei as a kid. It's why he became a shinigami. Thought ya'd have seen the tattoo, him bein' another vizard and all.” The shinigami sighed, easing his grip and pulling Ichigo into a hair-ruffling head lock. “Ya don't have ta like Shuuhei, Ichi, but you should get used ta him. Senpai and I have a soldier's arrangement, ya know, so he'll be around when ya visit the seireitei.”  
“Soldier's arrangement? What the fuck does that mean?”  
Renji's irritation was subsumed in a sudden teasing grin. “Man, you sure are innocent. How do ya humans put it? We're...'fuck buddies'. Lots o' the seated officers have 'em, to deal with the stress and the nightmares.”  
“Holy shit, you guys are sleeping together?” _Well_ , Ichigo thought, _that explains why I hate just the sight of that guy. Must have sensed it or something. But that means...Ren likes men?_ “Just like that, so casual?”  
“Ya really are naïve, Ichi,” Renji said, smoothing his ponytail. Ichigo had learned that Renji tended to fiddle with his hair when nervous, and his old accent grew thicker. “No, don't get all pissy either. It's probably better ya are- means you ain't all fucked in the head like we are. Shuuhei and me, we grew up in the Rukon. Ain't no time for pretty dreams like love or marriage when you're freezin' and starvin' and no one gives a shit. If ya get lucky enough not to get raped or turn ta the whorehouses to make enough ta eat, ya tend ta start doin' it as soon as ya old enough fer comfort. Then I was in the Academy and an officer after that, and ya spend decades slayin' monsters fer a livin' and seein' so many die. Love is a luxury ya just don't have. The nobles ain't no different, either- they just have different circumstances trappin' _them_. Got ta get married to just the right noble, have just the right kids. Get just the right seat in just the right division. No fuckin' around with the slum trash like me.” Renji's mouth twisted, a self-depreciating smile Ichigo hated to see on his face. Renji was supposed to be fire and drive, to not give a shit what other people thought of him. Suddenly he was pissed again, pissed off that Renji would allow people who'd never seen a tenth of the shit he'd seen in his life to make him feel that way.  
“Fuck that, Renji,” Ichigo snapped, yanking his ponytail hard enough to make the man yelp.  
“What the fuck's that for, ya jackass?”  
“Fuck that shit. You got time for anything ya want ta have time for- love or marriage or kids or all that shit if ya want it. You're supposed to kick ass and take names, fucker.”  
A barking laugh and an affectionate head butt was his response. “Fuck off, Ichi. Ya sound like one o' them girly magazine articles Orihime and Rukia like to read.”  
“ _Teme_!”  
The resulting brawl was enough to calm Ichigo's mind...for a while, anyway.

 

The verdict led to the peak of his rage- and its end. 

It was stupid, really. The great Kurosaki Ichigo- defeater of Aizen, hero of the Quincy War- would not die a valiant death combatting evil or saving lives. Instead he was to be executed, severed from his human life so that only his shinigami self remained. He had been ruled too powerful and too dangerous for the world of the living. _Shinji warned me this would happen_ , Ichigo thought to himself, blood dripping from his tightly clenched fist as he read the official letter. _That they would never allow a power like mine to exist free of their rules and their control._

 

Rukia had delivered the letter, of course. And Renji, of all people, was to carry out the sentence. _more strike against them, that they would order him to do this to his best friend._ The seal on the decision wasn't just that of the Central 46, but the Soul King's personal sigil. 

“They were split pretty evenly, and most of the captains fought for your life,” sighed Rukia. “Kyouraku-sotaicho was so against this that the tide was turning...until Hyōsube Ichibei himself delivered a letter from the Soul King. He personally commanded this, Ichigo. There's no recourse.”  
“It won't take long, Ichigo,” Renji said softly, his voice more formal and lifeless than Ichigo had ever heard it. “Your Gentei Reiin had another seal under it, one that will make sure you rise a shinigami with all your powers and memories intact. I...I'll make it quick and painless. I swear. But you're going to have to relax your control of your Hollow enough to let it happen.”  
Ichigo had known that he was a special case. There would be no khonso for him; he would rise a shinigami and be escorted straight to the Sotaicho for assignment. He had expected to die in battle, so the lack of pain and violence in his death was welcome. What was unexpected was the fear. He had left his body thousands of times before, shedding it without a thought to take on his shinigami form. But this time, this _last_ time, he'd never be able to go back. Never be able to return to the living world until those he had known were gone. And here he was, stupidly thinking about how this would make him closer to Renji. The fury at how the man refused to leave his thoughts even at his death blinded him, so he did what he always did- he fought. The familiar weight of Zangetsu in each hand, the ringing of steel on steel, the terrible knowing in Renji's eyes as he took all of Ichigo's rage and pain and regret without complaint. They fought for what seemed like hours to Ichigo's numbed mind, not a word spoken between them. They ended up on the banks of the river, _that river_ where his mother had died, and Ichigo lost it. For the first time since her death, he could feel the hot tears leaking from his eyes and a scream bubbling up from his throat to shatter the sky.  
“Bankai,” he growled, “Tensa Zangetsu!”  
Dimly, Ichigo heard Renji curse before “Bankai! Sōō Zabimaru” rang through the air. He flew at the larger man almost before the transformation had ended, engaging once more with a clashing of blades that rang up his arms and vibrated through his bones. He met Renji's eyes above their crossed swords, and wished he hadn't. Understanding and worry shaded their sepia depths, but his usual challenge and love of battle were absent. _Damn him. Damn him to hell for knowing me, for caring, for seeing..._  
With a primal howl of rage, Ichigo ripped away. “Getsuga Tensho!” The dark, red-tinged energy cross tore through the still night air, and Renji made no move to dodge. In a horrible frozen moment, Ichigo realized his mistake; if Renji dodged his attack, it would crash through the apartment complex on the other side of the river. But if he took it head on...no!  
Renji's lips twisted a bit into a sad half-smile. “Hihio.”  
The familiar skeletal snake of his old bankai form roared into existence, twisting itself with a flick of Renji's arm to wrap around the older shinigami like a shield. The shriek of the clashing techniques rent the night as bone segments rained down to the muddy banks before disappearing in a cloud of smoke. _Renji._  
Then suddenly Ichigo found himself pressed up against something warm and solid; Zangestu dropped from his nerveless fingers to the grass below and Ichigo followed, the warmth still wrapped around him as he broke down and wept. Smell of ozone and burnt fur from his attack ( _ewww_ ) assaulted his nose, but underneath were the lighter scents of sword oil and fresh grass and musk. _Renji._ He slowly came to his senses and realized he was curled up in Renji's lap, muscled arms like bands of steel around him and long fingers combing through his hair. His head was tucked under the older man's chin, his face pressed against that broad chest, and Ichigo realized Renji had been holding him like a child while he cried. Embarrassed, Ichigo tried to pull away, but the redhead wouldn't allow it.  
“It's okay, Ichi, It's okay,” Renji soothed, his voice softer and lower than the usual gruff tones. “It's gonna be okay. Ain't nobody to be strong for here, and ain't nobody gonna know. It's just me. Just me- so let it out. Cry if ya need to. Ain't gonna think no less o' ya.” A swift, fierce kiss was placed on his forehead. “You take all the time ya need.”  
And Ichigo had yielded for once and stayed in Renji's arms until the sun came up and his body stopped shaking. Renji seemed to know just what he'd need to hear, and so the big man rambled on while Ichigo calmed his racing heart. He promised he'd protect Ichigo's family himself if need be, fight for him with Kyouraku-sotaicho to bend the rules and allow Ichigo's family and friends to visit him in the Seireitei. Promised Rukia was on her way right now to let them all know, so that they would have time to say goodbye. Promised he could stay in Renji's ludicrously huge captain's quarters in Ninth Division until he got on his feet; described the place in such detail Ichigo felt he could see it already. Promised him that he could still have a life in death, and a good one, even if it would be a different one than he had imagined. Promised that he and Rukia would be there for Ichigo every step of the way, always. It was in those quiet hours that the years of repressed anger finally drained out of Ichigo, leaving him boneless and weary. It was in those quiet hours Ichigo realized it wasn't just attraction- he was in love.

Renji carried him home, only releasing Ichigo once his house was in sight. Rukia had indeed gathered Orihime, Chad, Uryu, Tatsuki, Keigo, and Mitsuiro to say their goodbyes; there were more hugs and tears than Ichigo had ever believed would be possible for someone like him. Even Uryu had pressed their foreheads together, one hand on the back of Ichigo's neck, and whispered a vow to take care of Orihime for as long as he lived. Yuzu promised to send treats to him through Urahara as often as she could, and Karin swore she'd learn to be strong enough to take over his slot as protector of Karakura town. That left only his father.  
“Dad...”  
“It's all right, Ichigo. We'll be together again. In a few decades, once the girls have gone, I'll let go of this gigai and return to the Seireitei.” He hugged Ichigo tightly to his chest for a long moment before stepping back. “So it's just goodbye for now, son.”  
Ichigo turned to the two figures who would change everything for him once more. “I'm ready.” 

Renji led him back to the riverbank. Ichigo closed his eyes and listened to his mind, as Zangetsu and the Old Man had been strangely silent. He was alone in his inner world, but a faint whisper of two voices carried to his ears nonetheless.  
 _“We're ready too, Ichigo.”_  
 _"Ready for the next adventure, aibou."_  
Ichigo opened his eyes for the last time to find the point of a tanto at his heart. He placed his hands over Renji's shaking fingers, and smiled. “Let's go home, Ren.” 


	3. Bargaining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In the third stage, the individual hopes he can avoid or undo the cause of the grief, usually resorting to attempting to bargain for the cause to cease or negotiate a compromise, either with a human agency or a higher power._

 

Ichigo hadn't wanted any special treatment upon his death, but Shunsui grinned into his sake cup and pointed out there weren't exactly any other Academy students with the ability for bankai- much less any visored, zanjutsu masters, or shunpo experts.They compromised; Ichigo would attend classes on kido, hakuda, and Seireitei history at the Academy, while taking a mid-level officer's position to learn the ropes of leadership and operational procedure.The division, however, caused some argument.By combat type, Ichigo should have been assigned to Squad Eleven which contained zanjutsu experts; however, both Shunsui and Ichigo had worried over the dangers inherent in having the new shinigami assigned under Zaraki.By temperament he would also have done well in Squad Nine, which served as the internal police of the Seireitei; but with Renji now in the captain's seat, that was an impossible thought.Realizing he was in love with Renji was an entirely different matter than knowing how to deal with it.

 

_“_ Why not Nine, Ichigo?”Shunsui pressed.“I think their purpose would suit you, and you and Abarai make a formidable team.” __

“That's just it,” Ichigo hedged, not making eye contact.“I don't want special treatment, and being Renji's best friend would get in the way and undermine his authority- especially since we can't stop arguing for ten minutes and there is no way I'm calling his ass 'sir'.He's already got a lieutenant he knows and trusts, and I don't want to undermine Hisagi either.Please- anywhere but Nine.”

The sotaicho tipped his hat up to meet Ichigo's eyes squarely.“Hmmm.I don't buy it.But if you feel that strongly about it, we'll find another solution.Just remember that in matters of the heart, avoidance rarely works.”

_“Matters of the what?What the hell are you talking about old man?! ”_

 

Shunsui laughed at Ichigo's flaming cheeks, waving his sake bowl around in sweeping gestures while expounding upon the beauty of love in the springtime until Nanao put a stop to it.In the end, after much haggling, Ichigo was placed in Squad Three as sixth seat; the blitzkrieg group had a bad reputation since Ichimaru's treachery, but their style as a fast strike force would suit Ichigo's temperament and skills well.Renji was waiting tensely outside the head captain's office, and whooped with joy when he discovered Ichigo had escaped becoming Zaraki's permanent sparring dummy.He led Ichigo back towards his apartment, pointing out pertinent features like the quartermaster's office and the best noodle shop in the Seireitei on the way.The constant chatter was a bit uncharacteristic for the redhead, and the man refused to meet Ichigo's eyes squarely. _Guilty as hell over having to kill me._ _Damn it, it's not his fault._

“Ren, you know that I don't-”

“Oi, Renji!And is that the kid?Who's attacking us _now_?”

Ichigo stifled his groan with difficulty as they were waylaid by Hisagi, Kira, and Matsumoto.A short explanation of Ichigo's status had the trio of lieutenants hauling them off to their favorite bar for an impromptu celebration.He had tried to protest that he wasn't old enough to drink (which for some reason made Renji cringe into his sake), but Rangiku had only laughed and pressed the bowl into his hands.

“Cutie, you're dead.Age means nothing here, and if you're old enough to die for us you're old enough to drink _with_ us.”

There really was no arguing with the woman, so Ichigo had tentatively sipped at his sake while the other four seemed to be doing their level best to drown in it.He had the disturbing feeling that these morons saw drinking as a competitive sport.Ichigo meant to keep it to a single bowl, but watching Renji's tight features as he drank himself to oblivion and Hisagi's increased flirting with his friend made him throw caution to the winds. _Fucking hot Hisagi. Fucking obtuse redheads._ By the end of the evening, both Renji and Ichigo were so inebriated that Hisagi and Kira had to drag them back to Renji's place.Hisagi gave Renji's backside a covert squeeze that had Ichigo clutching his shihakusho so tightly it almost tore, but Renji waved the lieutenants off with a sloppy grin.

 

Renji was far too drunk to figure out where his extra futon was, so he just gestured to his own while trying unsuccessfully to wriggle out of his shihakusho.Ichigo stumbled a bit over his own uniform (and, truth be told, Renji's nonchalant nudity), but eventually the both of them managed to get undressed as the bigger man collapsed onto the bedding.The hangdog look had disappeared from Renji's face, leaving an unusually open happiness there as he let those magnificent eyes rove over Ichigo's body.Renji slipped out his hair tie beckoned to Ichigo, who was just standing there frozen with uncertainty.

_“_ Plenty o' room for both of us, Ichi.It's yer home too now.Just watch out- I'm a snuggler _.”_

Renji then giggled like a child and passed out cold.Ichigo knelt on the futon next to his friend, eyes sweeping over what seemed like miles of exposed skin.Renji was naked but for his fundoshi, hair spilled in a crimson flood over both pillows.Tentatively, Ichigo reached out a hand and let a few strands slip over his fingers.It was strange to him how a hardened warrior like Renji could have such silken hair, and it had gotten so long in the past few years that it brushed the man's shoulder blades when released.Ichigo combed through it for several long minutes before lying down next to Renji and bringing a handful to his lips.Renji murmured in his sleep and threw an arm around Ichigo's shoulders, dragging the younger man to rest against his broad chest.Ichigo tensed, the warmth from the body next to him seeping into his very soul, until he was sure the man was still soundly asleep.Carefully he lay his own arm around Renji's waist, sliding his right leg over Renji's to press along his entire side.Ichigo closed his eyes, and sent out a silent prayer to the new Soul King or any gods that were listening.

 

_All right- I basically just let myself get killed on your say so.I think that means I deserve a little consideration.I'm in love with this man- I know it's selfish and I know I'll need to learn to let that go.But please, let me have this one night.Just one night of lying by his side like this, his skin against mine.Let me pretend just this once that we're lovers, and I swear I will never let him know I love him.I'll be the best friend he could ever ask for, he can sleep with the whole of the Gotei 13 and I won't say a word.Just tonight, like this. _

 

He stayed awake as long as he could, just drinking in the feel of Renji's muscled body against his own before falling into blissful unconsciousness.When he awoke again, he was on his back with Renji lying half on top of him, the big shinigami's left thigh pressed snugly against Ichigo's morning erection.Hair was draped everywhere, falling over Ichigo's chest and shoulders.Renji's lips pressed to the pulse point on his neck, making Ichigo both painfully aroused and ludicrously happy.He had spent years trying to deny his feelings for Renji, and they seemed to overwhelm him now that the denial had ended.While he had certainly seen the man unclothed before, during training or the healing springs at Urahara shoten, they had never been this close in such a state.Ichigo was amazed at how much bigger Renji's frame seemed when wrapped around his own shorter, leaner one; the shihakusho's bulk tended to conceal such differences.Sword-calloused fingertips made Ichigo's skin tingle as they traced his shoulder aimlessly.Even his scent, sword oil and fresh grass and musk, made Ichigo's heart skip.It stuttered in an entirely different way when Renji mumbled into Ichigo's neck as he woke up, however.

__

 

“Mmmm...mornin',” he rumbled, nuzzling Ichigo's ear.Then the elder man's brain seemed to catch up to his body and he sat up abruptly.“Shit.Sorry, Ichi.Told ya I was a snuggler.Put a warm body in bed with me, and bam.That body's gettin' cuddled whether its owner likes it or not.”The captain put a nervous hand through his hair in a futile attempt to straighten the mass out.“Been that way ever since the Rukon.Had ta get close to keep from freezin', ya know?”Hesitant ruby eyes met Ichigo's own, before that familiar grin broke out across Renji's lips.“Oh man, I think I gave ya a love bite in my sleep.Yer neck's all red right there under yer ear.”

“What?” Ichigo sprung out of the futon and stumbled to the bathroom, checking the mirror.Sure enough, there was a small sore spot under his left ear, right where Renji had been nuzzling when Ichigo woke up.“Teme!”

Renji laughed hard, tears escaping the corners of those lovely eyes.“You should see yer face!Yer blushin' so hard yer gonna pop a vein!What are ya, a shy virgin or somethin'?”

 

The comment hit too close to home for Ichigo's taste and he pummeled Renji into the futon, cursing at his friend's hysterical laughter and complaining about how he was going to hide that mark.But inside, he was sending up a silent prayer once more; perhaps this was evidence the gods had heard him, had granted his wish for one night held like a lover in the arms of the man he adored.Now he'd keep up his end- he'd be the friend Renji deserved and nothing more.

 

 

Keeping that bargain was harder than he had thought it would be, particularly with his new living arrangements.Living with Renji just sort of _happened_.At first, the bigger man simply insisted that Ichigo needed a place to crash while he got his feet, and that his new captain's quarters were far too big for him anyway.Ichigo had protested a bit, terrified the man would find out if he was near him in close quarters, but couldn't come up with a good argument to refuse.Ichigo had never lived  on his own before.He wasn't due to graduate high school for six months, and even in college he probably would have continued to live at home so he could work in the clinic.There was a bit of fumbling at first as Ichigo was suddenly responsible for household chores that Yuzu performed at home and Ichigo had no idea how to go about doing.Renji was good-natured about his lack, picking up the slack with an ease that surprised Ichigo.He forgot sometimes that Renji had spent his early life caring for his gang in the Rukon, and was alone for the century or so after that- of course the man could clean his own house and cook his own meals.To Renji's delight, it turned out that Ichigo was quite good at the latter- apparently he had picked up some cooking knowledge from Yuzu without realizing it.

The situation shifted very quickly into a comfortable domesticity that Renji took in stride; Ichigo would go to class and Renji would go to the Squad Nine barracks, they'd eat lunch together, bicker over whose turn it was to do the shopping or clean up, pick on each other over their respective paperwork.At home, the redhead was a talker- Ichigo found out more about Renji in the first three months in the Seireitei than he did the entire previous tenure of their relationship.And every time they were together he noticed something new about the man: the tiny white line on his upper lip from falling out of a tree in the Rukongai when he was a child, a small pink burn scar on his left bicep from a misfired kido spell (Renji had been too embarrassed to get it healed properly), the ticklish spot under his ribs that Rukia used as a last ditch threat.They would drink together in the bars with their friends on the weekends, dragging each other home or passing out at Ikkaku andYumichika's place.Sometimes, Shuuhei came home with them and it was all Ichigo could do to keep his reiatsu under control when the lieutenant and Renji disappeared behind closed doors and made enough noise to rouse a division.Renji had told him long ago that he and Shuuhei were “frustration-sex buddies”- that as long as neither of them was in a relationship they'd sleep together for stress relief.The first time it happened was about two months after Ichigo died, and left Renji feeling so guilty that it was almost comical to Ichigo.

 

“Ichi, I'm so sorry.Gods, that was so fucking stupid.I mean we never talked about....ya know.”

Ichigo's lips twitched at Renji's discomfort; having to wrangle in his jealous reiatsu while drunk the night before meant he deserved a little payback.

“It was bound to happen, Ren,” Ichigo sighed, feigning a disapproving frown.“I mean, who could expect a big baboon like you to keep it in his hakama when drunk?”

“I know, I know,” Renji whined, dropping his head to their kitchen table with a thunk.Red strands of unkempt hair came precariously close to falling into their breakfast miso.Ichigo stifled a snicker with difficulty.“I suck.I really, really-”Renji lifted bloodshot eyes to meet his, grimacing when he finally noticed Ichigo's suppressed mirth.“Hey!No fuckin' with a hung over man!”

Ichigo laughed outright, ladling Renji a bowl of soup and dropping some tamago onto his plate.“You deserved it.”

The captain stuck his tongue out at Ichigo before picking up his chopsticks with clumsy fingers.

“So...are you...okay with me bringin' Shuuhei here like this?” he asked timidly.“I mean, when I'm drunk like that I ain't the quietest thing goin'...”

“Ren, you aren't the quietest thing going even when you're sober.”

“Fuck you,” Renji grinned.“Seriously- it's okay with ya?I don't wanna make ya uncomfortable or nothin', since I know ya ain't crazy about Shuuhei and ya get a little weird about fuckin' and all.”

Ichigo blushed all the way up to his forehead, he could feel it.“I am NOT weird about sex!”

Renji poked his cheek good-naturedly.“That blush says otherwise.”

“Shut up.Just because I'm not into casual fucks doesn't mean I'm 'weird'.And who you sleep with is your own business, Renji.”

“You live here too, Ichi, and I like ya livin' here more than I do getting my stress out that way.”Renji mussed his hair, a gesture Ichigo had learned meant his friend was about to share something private.“I can't stand livin' alone, actually.Never had a moment's privacy until after I became a lieutenant, and it's just too damn quiet.And I think you and I get along as roommates better than anyone I know.I...don't want ya ta leave, Ichi.I know you've been here long enough now to get your stuff together for your own place, but I-”

Renji broke off, red staining his cheekbones in a way Ichigo found both amusing and beautiful.

“I ain't going anywhere, Ren.I like it here too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”Ichigo sent up one of his now-common prayers to the Soul King. _Well, I promised I'd let him do whatever- and whoever- he pleased.See?I'm keeping up my end of the deal.I won't be jealous.I'll be supportive.Just let me stay here with him for as long as I can._ “Look, don't worry about Hisagi- if it's only _sometimes_ I can deal.I just listened to music when you were going at it anyway.”

Renji smiled, the softer smile he reserved just for his closest friends.“Weirdo.”

“Slut.”

 

 

The gods once again felt the need to test Ichigo's promises as strenuously as possible.Knowing about Hisagi academically and being around it were very different, Ichigo discovered, as he now knew exactly how amazing Renji's voice sounded during the act, knew the growling sound he made when he came- heard it star in his dreams nightly.Knew exactly what he'd look like if it were _him_ with the redhead, from seeing Shuuhei's goofy grin and marked skin across the breakfast table a few Sundays.He'd swear the lieutenant gave him a smug look about it, too.Hisagi wasn't the only one giving Ichigo hell, either; there were quite a few shinigami who took issue with what they perceived as Ichigo's “special treatment”, or thought the great hero couldn't possibly be as strong as he was rumored to be.He was getting more than a little sick of turning down challenges, but Shunsui had assured him the only ones he _had_ to take were those in his own division who challenged him for his seat.That only happened twice before the rest of the Third accepted him, as no one else was willing to be humiliated as badly as the first; Ichigo had finished both fights in under five minutes without even breaking a sweat.Most of the captain-level shinigami were friendly with Ichigo, at least- though his relationship with Kuchiki Byakuya had cooled considerably.In fact, Byakuya was one of his biggest problems.Every time he and Ichigo met, the noble found ways to make passive-aggressive snipes at him.He wasn't even safe at home; while Byakuya seemed to hate Ichigo more each day, his relationship with Renji was moving inexorably towards a true friendship.So much so, that the man had dinner with them once a week in their apartment.

Eight months after Ichigo's death, he finally figured out what got a bug up Byakuya's ass.

 

“So, Kuchiki-taicho, have ya done anything yet about the applicants for the lieutenant's slot in yer division?” Renji asked, waving his chopsticks in a distinctly unrefined manner.If Ichigo had done it, Byakuya would have speared him with a glare like ice, but his expression now was fondly indulgent as he sipped his tea.

“I have not,” the elder man replied as he swirled his cup.“There is not a one that is over fourth seat, and unlike your own situation it is not due to the inherent structure of their divisions.”

“What does that mean, inherent structure of the division?” Ichigo asked.“What was up with Renji's application?”

Byakuya's lips tightened, but Renji answered for him.

“Maa...I was only sixth seat over in the Eleventh when I applied for the slot in the Sixth.Lucky Kuchiki-taicho didn't just toss it in the trash- it _was_ pretty presumptuous of me.”The redhead favored his former captain with a rakish grin.“But that's just the Eleventh- I couldn't have ever gotten higher than sixth seat unless I had a death wish.”

Ichigo frowned.“Pretty sure you're stronger than Ikkaku, Ren.”

“Sure, now,” Renji laughed.“But ya gotta understand, Ichi- Ikkaku was my mentor.Took all that formal shit I learned at the Academy and taught me how ta use it ta fight fer _real_ , and fer _keeps_.Taught me what it meant ta have a purpose, and a meanin' behind why I fight.He was still stronger than me then- and even if he hadn't been, I had too much respect and admiration for him to challenge him.”

Byakuya was clearly trying to hide a smile behind the long fall of his obnoxiously perfect hair now, Ichigo noted with irritation.Renji saw it anyway, and beamed. _Still thinks that jackass' opinion is so damn important._

“What about Yumichika?”

“What, I should have challenged my mentor's lover for his slot and come between them?Not if I wanted ta keep my balls intact, Ichi.”Renji poured another round of sake for Ichigo and Byakuya before helping himself to another bowl with a shudder.“And anyone who would try ta fight Yachiru for the lieutenant position would have ta be fuckin' nuts.”

“So I went down to the Eleventh myself to take a look at the creature audacious enough to aim for a position as my lieutenant from such a ranking,” Byakuya continued, grey eyes softening as they ran over Renji's face.“I was fortuitous; Renji was sparring with Madarame in the practice yards when I arrived.That was all I needed to see.”

Renji snorted indelicately.“Yeah, that and findin' out I did all Zaraki's _and_ Yachiru's paperwork.Everyone always wondered how the Eleventh filed all their shit on time- all me.Not bad for someone who had ta learn how ta read and write at the same time I went ta the Academy, eh Kuchiki-taicho?”

“Byakuya.We discussed this before, Renji.We have far too much behind us to stand on formalities any longer.”

Renji blushed, running his fingertips nervously through the ends of his hair.“Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Ichigo, on the other hand, was dumbfounded.“You didn't know how to read or write?”

“Course not,” Renji scoffed.“I was a street rat.Only things I knew how ta read were the gang signs so I could steer our group clear.And I died too young ta have learned in my human life, or ta remember any of it for that matter.”

“How did you get into the Academy then?Isn't there an entry exam?”

Renji and Byakuya exchanged a glance that screamed Ichigo was a naïve kid.Gods, he hated that look- it seemed to be Byakuya's perpetual expression around him now.

“Ichi, ya gotta understand,” Renji began.He stopped short, staring at his hands while he searched for words.“There's lots of ways ta get around the Seireitei's rules and regulations- including a bribe in the right hands.”

“You _bribed_ your way into-”

“Not me.Rukia.She'd been scavenging up extra cash whenever she could, and once our gang was gone and it was just us, she sniffed around and bought a proctor.We sat the exam, but in an 'overflow' room away from the other applicants.He couldn't give us the answers cause then it would be obvious, but he read us the questions and told us where ta circle for the answer we wanted.”

Ichigo smiled.“So you didn't really cheat.”

“Well, by the Seireitei's standards we did.We figured it was evenin' the odds.”Renji gave Ichigo a wide grin and nudged him with an elbow.“Sides, there's a practical part ta the exam too.Me 'n Rukia aced that shit.Half those pampered little noble brats- sorry, Byakuya- couldn't form up their reiatsu or swing a sword for nothin'.”

Ichigo nudged back.“Hey, you _still_ can't do shit with your reiatsu.Your kido blows.”

“Fuck you, asshole,” Renji chuckled.“Yours ain't much better.Which brings me ta what I was originally askin', Byakuya.”Renji's eyes grew serious as he leaned over the table towards his former captain.“Have ya considered Ichi?”

“What?”

In any other circumstance, Ichigo would have found himself and Byakuya answering in confused stereo amusing.But this...

“You think I should consider Kurosaki for my lieutenant?”Byakuya's cultured voice was fairly dripping with incredulity. _Fuck you too, Byakuya._

“Yeah, I do,” Renji replied in an even tone.“Hear me out before ya both freak.Ya ain't gonna find anyone else of captain level reiatsu and skill in the bunch we've got left after the wars.Best you could hope ta do is try to train one up or poach someone else's lieutenant, which would piss all the other captains off.Ichi may have a different philosophy than you do, but he's just as dedicated to fighting for what he thinks is justice, and Kira says he's learnin' the ropes of an officer's position pretty quick.His weak spot's kido, and workin' with someone strong in it like you could help him grow.Plus, we know ya got experience workin' with unruly, mouthy, brawlin' punks.”

Byakuya's expression warmed a bit, mouth twitching at the corners.“Well, I certainly do have that.”

“It's just a suggestion, but Ichi's gonna be done with his Academy classes in another six months at the rate he's goin'.His hakuda teacher already passed him through, and his history courses are nearly finished.It's just kido that's hangin' him up, but he's at least got enough proficiency for the 30 levels and that's all I got too.Just...somethin' ta think about for ya.”

Byakuya stared down at his teacup, swirling the leaves again.“I will...consider it.Thank you for the advice, Renji.”

“Ah, no problem.Just thought it might be one of those things so obvious no one actually thought of it.”A hell butterfly interrupted whatever he was going to say next, the message causing Renji's brows to furrow.“That stupid little- ugh.I'm sorry, I gotta run over ta the barracks.My moron lieutenant managed to insult Yumichika and there's a brawl on.Zaraki apparently ain't doin' shit ta break it up either.”

“Go ahead, Renji.I shall help Kurosaki clean up.”

Renji froze halfway out the window.“You're going to clean up?You once yelled at me fer not mopping up tea _you_ spilled on your own desk!”

Byakuya colored slightly, but waved a hand to dismiss him.“Call it appreciation for the meal, if you must.”

“All right.See ya both later, eh?”

There was a ringing moment of silence after Renji's departure before Byakuya rose gracefully to his feet and began gathering cups and bowls.Ichigo followed suit, washing the dishes the older man brought him.It was awkward as hell, and Ichigo assumed Byakuya would haul ass out of the apartment as soon as he could.

“Kurosaki, as much as I dislike the implication Renji may have a valid point,” Byakuya said with obvious reluctance.“Your inexperience with leadership is the sole reason Kyoraku-sotaicho has not offered you a captaincy of your own.A lieutenant's position is the next logical step, and my division is the only one open that still has a captain itself.”

Ichigo sighed, grabbing a towel to dry the bowls.“And you actually think we could work together?Because to be blunt, you've been kind of a dick to me ever since I got here.”

The Kuchiki heir stiffened then released a long breath as a huff, ruffling his bangs in a surprisingly casual gesture.“I am...unaccustomed to speaking this plainly, but with you and Renji involved I will apparently have no choice.”Grey eyes like chips of glacial ice narrowed at him.“I am aware of your designs on him, and I do not approve.You are both too reckless and stubborn to be in a relationship ofthat nature without bringing each other to ruin.There are others who would suit him far better.If you care about him, you would do best to turn your attentions elsewhere.”

The rigid stance and forbidding aura of the captain finally made sense to Ichigo, connecting in his mind with an ominous click.“Holy shit.You want him!You want him, and you're scared I'm competition.”

“You are not 'competition' in any way that matters, Kurosaki.I will not lose to you in this.”

“Renji isn't some _prize_ you can win.The choice should be entirely his,” Ichigo snapped, frustrated and creeped out by the entire conversation.“Not that it matters, but I have no intention of ever telling him how I feel.He's my best friend, and I won't screw that up.But I don't think you're right for him either- he's talked before about how the nobles have treated him like slum trash.Pretty sure that includes you.”

“My wife was from Inuzuri, the same as Renji,” Byakuya hissed.“I do not denigrate him for his origins.Our confrontation came about due to my concern over fraternization.That is no longer an issue with Renji holding his own captaincy.”The man straightened, adjusting his haori and flicking invisible dust from the material.“Make no mistake, Kurosaki.Renji's future is by my side.Unfortunately, your immediate one may also have a place there, though in different capacity.I will inform Kyoraku-sotaicho that I would accept your petition, should you choose to make it upon your graduation.”

Ichigo sat at the kitchen table for a long time after Byakuya swept out of their apartment, nursing a bowl of sake and turning over his future in his mind.Could he actually work with Byakuya?Before his death, he would have said yes easily.But now, with his love for Renji growing despite his best efforts and what amounted to a thrown gauntlet for Renji’s affections from the Kuchiki heir, Ichigo wasn’t so certain.What if Renji _did_ choose Byakuya, and Ichigo had to watch them together?Would he have to do that eventually anyway if he kept living with Renji?Even if he moved out, it wasn’t like Ren was going to stop being his best friend; Ichigo knew that some day he’d have to come to terms with the redhead falling in love with _someone._ Wasn’t it better if it was someone Renji respected and admired like Byakuya?Shouldn’t Ichigo think more about his career than his non-existent love life, considering how long that career could be?

Ichigo’s sake had long since run out by the time Renji returned covered in blood from a “friendly” bout with Zaraki, and then he had other things to think about.

 

 

Six weeks later, Ichigo’s mind was made up for him.

 

_“_ Uhn.Ren!” __

“Keep it down, senpai.Don't wanna wake Ichi.”

Ichigo, fumbling his way to the kitchen for some water, froze.He stifled his reiatsu (it was practice- for his kido classes.That was it) and tiptoed to the door to the living room, peeking around the edge.Hisagi Shuuhei was pressed up against the wall, his yukata open and sliding down his shoulders to his elbows, hands clutching Renji's biceps.Renji, hair beginning to fall out of his high ponytail, was already naked and licking a line up his lieutenant's neck.One tattooed thigh was thrust between Shuuhei's legs, both large hands grasping the older man's rear and sliding him up and down suggestively.Shuuhei groaned, reaching up to snap Renji's hair tie and tug the falling locks roughly.

“Wonderboy is passed out cold, Ren,” he growled.“And if he's awake, let him hear.Might learn something.”

“Shuuhei...we talked about this...”

Hisagi looked and sounded disgruntled to Ichigo when he responded, as though the topic was a sore spot between them.“Yeah, yeah.Less talking, more fucking.”

Though he couldn't see the expression on Renji's face from his vantage point, he could hear the laughter in his voice.“Yeah, yeah.” Renji parroted back, snickering.“Topping from the bottom again, I see.”

“Shut...ah!...up, asshole.”

Renji pushed Hisagi's yukata off and onto the floor, following it down with his mouth until the older man gasped and pulled on crimson strands.Renji's head bobbed gently, wringing more moans out of his partner who muffled them with a fist in his mouth.Ichigo's cheeks burned.He knew about these things in theory, but had neither done them nor seen them himself- he had been too tangled up in thoughts of Renji to try finding a lover of his own after the disastrous incident at the gay club, and he had no inclination for pornography.He also knew he shouldn't be watching such a private act, but couldn't bring himself to look away.It was wrong, Ichigo was well aware of that, and he was sure they'd sense him any minute as his arousal pulsed and his reiatsu flared briefly.Another prayer was sent up to the Aether. _Oh, gods.Let me see him like this just once.I swear it will be enough to get me through.I swear I'll never let him know anything.I'll even be nice to fucking Hisagi and make him breakfast when he stays over.But fuck- I'd do anything to watch just this once._

 

Renji had pulled a jar out of the cabinet near his bedroom during Ichigo's conversation with the divine, and was now working one hand underneath Hisagi even as he pleasured him with his mouth; the sounds Renji made were obscene enough to make Ichigo hard even if he hadn't been watching.Ichigo narrowed his eyes, blurring out the figure in front of Renji and trying to picture himself in Shuuhei's place.Biting his lip, he slid his hand into his sleeping yukata and grasped himself firmly, stroking in time with Renji's movements.It wasn't too long before Hisagi choked out a warning and threw his head back into the wall, Renji only moving back from his body once the tremors had ceased. _Oh fucking merciful gods.He swallowed it._ Ichigo's own mouth watered, wondering idly what Renji would taste like.The captain stood up once more, and Ichigo's breath was stolen from his lungs at the sight of broad, inked shoulders, a muscled rear, and the very prominent erection that hung heavy between Renji's thighs.With a show of strength that made Ichigo feel faint, Renji lifted Hisagi underneath his knees and slowly lowered him onto his member.

“Gods, _Ren_ , just like that.”

Renji had pressed Hisagi into the wall and was fucking him in long, slow strokes, and just thinking about how much strength and coordination it took was enough to make Ichigo squeeze his own erection to keep from coming on the spot.Hisagi was all but babbling now, his gruff voice nearly unrecognizable with the string of soppy endearments and pleas for more, harder, faster emanating from it.Renji was strangely silent for such a loud-mouthed man, and Ichigo wondered if it was over worry for waking him.The thought of Renji considering him during sex blinded him for a moment, and Ichigo released into his yukata, biting down on his wrist to silence his grunt of surprise.

“Shuu, too drunk to keep this up as long as...”

“Doesn't matter, close again! Just keep..ah...right there...shit!”

Renji had slid down to his knees, still inside his lieutenant, but it seemed to be familiar to Hisagi who began to ride him at once.One of Renji's hands grasped his senpai's erection, and it was all over; Hisagi bit his lip and splattered both their chests as Renji dropped his forehead to the other's shoulder and moaned raggedly.

As his heartbeat slowed, Ichigo began to feel real shame at his voyeurism, but even worse when he heard what followed.

“Renji- you know that I...”

“I know, Shuuhei.And I'm sorry.But you know that I...”

“I know.You didn't ask your dumbass senpai to go falling for you like an idiot, and I know you care about me.Just not the same as I've come to care about you.I get it, and right now I'll take what I can get- no strings.”Hisagi's voice became quieter then.“Ren, is it...him?”

“What?Him who?”

“Don't play stupid with me, _Taichou_.I know you too well for it to work.”

Renji frowned, and dipped his head back to Hisagi's shoulder so his hair obscured his face from view.“It ain't about anybody but me.This stray dog is too fucked up to be _anyone's_ lover.”

 

__

 

Ichigo slipped quietly into the bathroom, cleaning up as best he could before padding to his own bedroom.He flopped onto his futon, pressing his wrists over his eyes and trying hard to ignore the stinging in the corners of his eyes. _So Renji...cares about another man?_ _I know that tone of his, and Hisagi was right.He was definitely lying._ Ichigo hated when Renji was so hard on himself.Since he started living with the other man, he'd noticed that Renji's self-deprecating humor often covered a real distaste for himself.Remembering their conversation on Urahara's roof months before, and the pained tightness in Renji's jaw when he called himself “slum trash”, Ichigo thought he knew who Renji's secret love could be. _Byakuya.Of course it's fucking Byakuya.Gods- he's gorgeous, powerful, rich, sophisticated, and Renji's been chasing his shadow for decades.It's not enough that Renji's always tried to defeat him and come up short, but now he's in love with him and thinks he has no chance?And Rukia- it's obvious to anyone with eyes that Rukia loves Byakuya too, and as more than just a brother.Renji would never go after someone Rukia loved, not even if he did have a shot._

__

 

It was in that moment that Ichigo realized how screwed he really was.He'd known that he'd never burden Renji with his feelings, that he'd try to be happy for him if he fell in love with someone else.But now, staring at the ceiling and trying desperately to think of a way to hook up Byakuya with Renji without hurting Rukia, he knew his love had grown stronger than he'd ever imagined it could. _How pathetic am I?I'm actually thinking about trying to fix up the man I love with another man!I know it's not healthy.It's probably that damn hero complex Uryuu was always riding my ass about. But...anything to make him smile.He shouldn't think he's worthless like that, look so defeated.That's not my Renji- and if I have to drag that prissy prick into this by his pansy-ass scarf kicking and screaming, I will.And then, maybe, once he's happy with someone else I can move on._

__

 

 

Ichigo was wrong.He never knew how wrong it was possible for him to be, until the moment a month later that he saw Kuchiki Byakuya kissing Abarai Renji in his office.All Ichigo’s bargaining and promises crashed down around his head and there was nothing but a blank emptiness left.


End file.
